Hans's "fragile" starts with a strange preference: the speaker would rather have a glass broken than their own heart. A broken glass can be dealt with. You know how to clean it up, and the pain of a cut is something you can bear. Ordinary hurt, the speaker says, is temporary, and they can stay strong and hold back their tears.
Then the poem turns on the word "but." When the pain comes through someone else, "you," everything changes. The speaker admits to being "not the same," and the final lines come out short and bare: everything looks blurry and slow, and they are "the weakest." The blurriness suggests tears or a kind of numbness, as if the world has lost its focus.
The mood is quiet, vulnerable, and honest. There is no anger here, only a speaker who confesses that the person they love holds the power to break them in a way nothing else can.